


Velvet Touch

by feminismintensifies



Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feminismintensifies/pseuds/feminismintensifies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hansol stands nervously in the bathroom fidgeting with the sheer lace of his negligee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Velvet Touch

Hansol stands nervously in the bathroom, fidgeting with the sheer lace of his negligee. It has a female cut and doesn't sit right; doesn't fit his straight, muscular physique as snugly as it would the soft curves of someone else. He bites his lip and runs his fingers down his torso over the smooth, see-through fabric clinging to his hard abdomen.

At it's end, the black lace almost blends into the panties of the same dark color. His dick is half hard and straining against the delicate fabric; he has to be careful or it might tear. He ghosts his hand over the silhouette of his erection and lets out a breathy gasp.

He moves on, walking his fingers down a smooth thigh and tugging on the garter midway down. He pulls them up a bit higher one by one, then looks back up at the mirror.

This is the first time he's actually done this; dressed like this. His skin looks divine through the transparent gossamer and stands in stark contrast against the black. He skims his hands back up, barely catches the fabric and it slips back into place like a waterfall caressing the erogenous skin. He releases a shaky breath and traces his prominent collar bone before he slides his fingers up along his neck and over the tight choker.

Hansol's eyes lock onto the reflection of his lips. They've turned bright pink from the abuse of his teeth and he licks them now, feels a pull in his stomach as he watches his tongue peak out and wet them.

He wanders his vision over the length of his philtrum, the curve of his nose, and gets caught on his blown out pupils. The pace of this breathing increases and he's mesmerized by how desperate his own eyes look.

When Hansol snaps out of his trance he realizes his hands are shaking and his cock aches with the need to be touched. His hands drop, run over the muscles of his abdomen that spasm at the sudden and pressing touch. The feeling of his thumbs running along the hem of the lace panties sends his gut into a bubbling frenzy.

Breathing erratically, he palms his erection. A moan boarding on a whine slips from the back of his throat at how heavenly the touch feels, at how urgently he needs it. There is a wet spot on the front, precome leaking from the head of his cock. He pushes the lace down gingerly, still afraid of destroying the fragile fabric if he's too rough. Touching himself has never felt more erotic than it does now, in such feminine clothing and watching his actions closely through a mirror.

He pauses for a moment to take in the full image and wonders how Byungjoo would react. Disgust? Confusion? Incredulity? Hunger? If Hansol knows Byungjoo at all, he bets the blond would frown and ask him, “What are you wearing?” He would pretend it does not bother him but clench his fists.

He does not realize he is touching himself until he thinks of the hand stroking him as Byungjoo’s. His legs are trembling as he leans back on the cool wall and it sets his skin ablaze. His other hand scrambles against the tile. He wishes that Byungjoo were actually here so he could grip his hair tight enough for his fingertips to turn white. 

When Hansol comes, it’s with the picture of Byungjoo’s face striped with milky white painted on his eyelids and his name let out in gasping breaths. His thighs quiver violently and his knees knock together, nearly giving way as he slips down the wall.


End file.
